Claire barely had time to absorb that she'd actually shot Jareth in the head and killed him when his body vanished. She lowered the gun slowly and stared at the empty space. No blood, nothing more gory than blood, just the ground as it had been before Jareth fell.
She'd killed him. This time, it didn't feel like killing a vampire or a zombie. Those were things more than people. The Goblin King, no matter what he'd done – and he'd done so very much – felt more like a person than armies of undead did. Shouldn't she feel relieved or pleased about this, rather than reflecting over what he was?
That burst of violence seemed to settle the feelings inside her, however, enough that she wasn't still looking to be violent. She sagged, dropping to her knees, still looking at the spot.
Finally she looked up at Toby, brow knitting together in the middle. She'd told him to run, but he was still here.
"I told you to go inside, he could have hurt you," she whispered.